by Sky, Stella
What I’d seen didn’t make sense. The alien race I was studying seemed everything but exploratory. And yet I had just been the first woman—no, the first human—to witness the launching of a spacecraft. Of any kind. Even the Vellreq, who were so open about so many things, were secretive about their crafts. Somehow, the alien race managed to cloak them far from where any human eye might see them as they came and went.
“What are they doing? Are they traveling somewhere?”
Sure enough, the spacecraft was hurtling beyond the atmosphere of Planet 139, and I watched in awe. The craft was round and robust, with a huge fuel tank resting on the outside of it. I had no idea what the purpose for it might be, but it was groundbreaking to finally see the launch of an alien craft in person. I memorized every detail I could, right down to the rust-colored bolts holding the craft together.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I said. Kara nodded.
“This is extraordinary,” she agreed.
Research into alien colonies was a budding science, and I was one of the lucky few chosen to document it in detail. The pioneering research group was known as the Orion Project, and really it was the project of a lifetime, conducting research that would pave the way for exploration in the field of alien lifeforms for generations to come. Our conduct and methods were a turning point for an entirely new scientific field. Every little detail counted.
And yet, they had Kara and I, the only two women on the team, researching the planets with the least activity. Go figure.
“You’d better get back in here and take down the records, Lain. You’re going to be famous for this.”
“Famous? It’s not like I built the ship,” I mumbled, taking Kara’s place at the telescope. Still, my hands were shaking. Kara was right. This would launch my career.
I had been assigned to this job by my superiors with the intention of researching the peaceful alien race that had been accidentally discovered during a mission to explore the black holes plaguing our galaxy. Lucky for us, they were just close enough to Earth that the new super-powered telescopes and satellites could give us a constant stream of information.
Still, our access to and understanding of this information was limited. All we really knew was what we had heard and experienced first-hand through dangerous pilgrimages through space.
What that really meant was we hardly knew anything. And now, it seemed possible that my peaceful alien race might not be so peaceful after all. The rule of thumb seemed to be that if an alien race left their planet, something bad would soon follow. Whether it was a famine they were trying to escape or an attack on or from another alien race, only time could tell.
We’d just begun to develop communications technologies with the helpful race that frequented Earth. They called themselves the Vellreq, though they never seemed to say the word Vellreq to each other when speaking in their mother tongue. I was certain they had their own name for themselves, but nobody seemed to care about that hypothesis. What mattered most to the Orion project was that the Vellreq entrusted us with bits and pieces of information as they saw fit. I’d never met a Vellreq in person, though most of the team worked closely with them while conducting research.
I finished scribbling my report and put on my headset, keeping one eye closely on the ship. It was heading west, into a cluster of meteors that had been deemed unsafe for travel. If this was an exploratory mission, my race, nicknamed the Kartugians, were headed for disaster.
“All eyes on Planet 139!” I exclaimed into my headset. “Unknown vessel traveling west toward meteor field. Launched at approximately 0300 with no known agenda!”
“Copy that,” a man’s static-filled voice said into my ears. “We’ll take it from here.”
But I wasn’t about to let them take over on one of the most exciting things I’d ever seen happen on my job. Instead, I took control.
“Is there any way to get a feed inside the meteor field in sector 16?” I asked. If we weren’t able to keep our eyes on them, we might lose track of them for good.
“Affirmative. Locking in on sector 16.”
“Good,” I said, opening my laptop and typing furiously so I could keep track of the feed.
The little ship was heading through the meteors, spunky as ever, not bothering to stop or even slow down. We had never seen a ship come through here before, and it struck me as bizarre that they would try to navigate it with such intention. They were surprisingly bold.
“Keep the cameras focused on the ship,” I said. I typed in a command that recorded the activity on the screen. “This is important.”
“Roger.”
“Can you believe this?” Kara whispered. She had her computer on the feed and was watching the bizarre events unfold with the same astonishment as I felt.
“I don’t think it’s a warship,” I murmured. “Look at how bumbling it is. It’s almost like…”
“What?” Kara prompted when I trailed off. But what I said just sounded so silly.
“Well…it’s almost like they’re just going out for a joy ride,” I finally said.
Kara laughed, and we watched the little ship as it navigated the meteor field. I felt a strange sense of pride as they dodged the meteors, again and again. I could almost hear exclamations of excitement, and in my head, I compared them to humans who enjoyed high-adrenaline sports.
I was really enjoying the show, but suddenly my stomach dropped. I had to blink hard and rewind my footage before I could even begin to believe what I had seen. As suddenly as it had come, the little ship disappeared into thin air.
Chapter 2
Commander Zerk’k Arkti
“Commander Zerk’k! Look out!”
“Fuck,” I growled, slamming my fist onto the control panel and jerking the wheel. “When will those cursed Lenely learn to drive?”
I had barely been able to steer my ship out of the way in time to avoid hitting the obnoxious looking little ship head-on. The Lenley blinked their lights at me, as if I were the offender, and sped away. As furious as I was, I was grateful that the ships hadn’t collided. That would have been a humiliating way to end the mission.
“Well, Commander,” Jerd said, smiling sardonically at me. “They do only leave their planet once every millennium.”
“That’s no excuse. They shouldn’t leave at all if they haven’t mastered their aircraft!”
Jerd shrugged, which only fueled my fury.
“They’re a liability for anybody traveling through here,” I continued. “Somebody should go to their planet and force them to pass a safety seminar.”
“Who better than you, sir?” Jerd replied.
“Oh, please,” I said, tapping my fingers against the sleek control panel. “I have bigger issues to worry about right now than to teach those idiots how to drive.”
Nothing could be truer. My people, the Thressl’n, were suffering, and we had only ourselves to blame. In the very early years, the Thressl’n had favored male children over female, for our brighter complexions and insurmountable strength. Unfortunately, this preference had lead to an unprecedented imbalance of males over females. Now, males outnumbered females by a ratio of 16:1. And as Second in Command, it was my job to try and find the best solution.
Currently, the situation had become a crisis, with most of the females married and some of them curiously infertile. If we didn’t resolve the situation soon, the Thressl’n were going to become extinct.
Certainly, a lot of resentment was directed my way as many of the younger females refused to mate, hoping they could be my first and only lover. But my attentions lay elsewhere. In fact, until I made a public declaration of my celibacy until further notice, I felt the rivers of anger directed toward me by the many noblemen who had been refused on the grounds that they weren’t me.
“How much longer now?” I asked, tapping my foot impatiently. Nobody knew this, but I despised flying. The long treks through dark space left me irritable and restless. I’d rather have my feet on the ground
any day.
“We are 15 lightyears away from Earth,” Jerd answered after a short beat.
“I see,” I said, looking darkly at my monitor. That meant there wasn’t much time left. As soon as we made our way out of the meteor field, we would be within sight for the more advanced Earthling technology. “Raise the cloak. We don’t want anybody to detect us coming in. It could spell trouble. How have the other ships fared?”
“They’ve logged in as successful, and are heading back to Jenal’k with their cargo in tow. Everything is right on schedule.”
“Right. We’ll have to go clean up the place a bit. Cover their tracks and make sure that everything is going well. Understood?”
“Of course, sir. Are you prepared to breathe in that devastating Earth air?”
I scoffed. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Did any of the footmen report any dangers or anything strange we should be aware of before completing the mission?”
“No, sir, nothing we weren’t already aware of. Heavy smog, and all the females one could ask for. Populations are absurd. I’m sure nobody will even notice the missing females.”
“Good,” I said thoughtfully. “We want to leave as little trace as possible.”
“Cloaking devices have been successfully engaged,” Jerd said, reading the rapidly moving numbers appearing on the screen in front of him. “We’re 7 lightyears from Earth now. Are you ready?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure.
Earth. A dark planet only rumored throughout the galaxy for the cruelty of its people toward each other, other species, and even the planet itself. But many races were like that, and it shouldn’t be surprising. However, Earth was the first with people of such dire inclinations to escape their planet before their bad habits made their world inhospitable. In fact, humans could be found treading further and further out into the reaches of space, using their primitive machines to gather intelligence on the workings of the universe around them. Human curiosity was one of the most dangerous things in the solar system. Their interest meant danger for the rest of the universe.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, sir, I’m sure part of your tension is due to nerves,” Jerd volunteered, purposefully avoiding my eyes and studying the blunt nails on his left hand. His four fingers seemed far more interesting than anything he might be suggesting to me. But I knew he was simply hoping to avoid my vengeance if I found his thought to be out of place.
“Nerves?” I scoffed, wondering if Jerd had somehow figured out my hatred of flying. We had worked side-by-side for several revolutions of the sun, and he had grown very comfortable speaking his mind to me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate his honesty, though. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ve never been to Earth,” Jerd reminded me. “We have no idea what the females there will be like, or even if they’re compatible for breeding.”
“You think that would be enough to make me nervous?” I laughed.
What Jerd said rang true, but I couldn’t let him know it. While it seemed a reasonable plan to supplement our Thressl’n females with human females, meanwhile depleting Earth’s population to hopefully prevent their irresponsible race from further exploration of the universe, the simple fact of the matter was that Earth and its people were unpredictable. And unpredictable could mean dangerous.
Jerd was silent, but the admiring shine in his eyes said enough.
“Of course not, Commander.”
“Anyway, just because we’ve never come to Earth doesn’t mean that I’m intimidated by the humans. The Vellreq have cozied right up to them…sneaky bastards. They see the potential in an ignorant and innovative destructive force. We’re doing the whole universe good with this mission. Not only that, but we will preserve the one beautiful thing about humans for good once the race finally destroys itself – the females. Let’s do everything we can to strive for success.”
“Yes, sir,” Jerd said.
I waved my hand to dismiss him, and he left me alone as I contemplated the best way to approach a race I knew little, if nothing, about.
Chapter 3
Dr. Lain Brousseau
“Congratulations, Dr. Brousseau, on a job well done,” my boss, General Erik Meyers, said. He beamed out at the crowd, his eyes scanning over my head as he pinned a medal onto the lapel of my blazer. His smile remained frozen as he waited for the crowd to respond.
The small group surrounding me applauded, and I blinked hard as cameras began flashing in my face. It was both very over and underwhelming, and I smiled out at the crowd. There was nowhere to go from here but up. If only I had family or friends to share my accomplishment with, I probably would have felt completely happy. But happiness was something I had given up on a long time ago.
Kara whooped, driving the thought right out of my mind. Who needed family when you had an amazingly talented research partner? I was truly lucky to work beside someone like Kara. She never even hinted that she might feel any jealousy over the attention my discovery was receiving. In fact, she’d urged me to finish my report as quickly as possible and submit it to General Meyers so we could follow up on the strange anomaly right away. She was just as caught up in the excitement as I was, and seemed genuinely thrilled that I might move from my demeaning position and delve into more serious work.
I wouldn’t have to worry about getting promoted, either. Kara would take over my role; she was more than capable. Not only that, but she was just as interested as I was in what the Kartugians could be doing out in space, and how it could possibly be that they had disappeared into thin air. It was hard to focus on all the formality with such a deep question probing my brain. All I wanted to do was get back to work. I’m sure Kara felt the same way.
“We look forward to the many new discoveries you will make as part of the team,” General Meyers said down to me, once the applause died down. “In fact, I’m honored to inform you that you, little lady, have earned a promotion. Dr. Ellis will show you around the lab.”
Clapping once more filled the room and I caught Kara’s eye in the crowd. She looked thrilled, and mouthed, “The lab!” to me. I don’t think either one of us thought a woman would ever set foot in there without a chauffeur. It was a groundbreaking day in so many ways. “Little lady” comment notwithstanding.
“Thank you, sir,” I stammered, blinking hard as I tried meeting his eyes. The camera flashes were making it hard to find them though, and I looked away the first chance I got. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself in front of one of the most powerful men in the country.
“My pleasure. Now if everybody will please make their way to the reception hall, where food and drinks will be served, we can get this celebration underway.”
Cheers were deafening this time, and I had the distinct impression that the rest of my colleagues, mostly men my age or much, much older than I, were far more excited for the alcohol than they were about my discovery. I couldn’t fight the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach, either. Many of the men were glaring at me. Were they jealous?
I tried to ignore it as I was led to the reception hall, which was blissfully quiet for a few moments as everybody filed in and helped themselves to the free champagne. Soon though, I was bombarded by questions from curious colleagues, avoided by envious ones, and generally overwhelmed by the whole ordeal.
As the men surrounding me talked at me and to each other, I found myself wondering how a group of brainiacs could be so loud and overbearing. At social events I tended to retreat into a quiet corner, hoping I could escape the scrutiny of men who had deemed me “too smart” for them, and the good-intentioned friends who wanted to set me up with those very men. There never seemed to be a place for me among those I had the most in common with. It was pretty bewildering.
“A toast!” Kara suddenly exclaimed, silencing the chattering men surrounding me and drawing their attention to her face. I sighed in relief, quietly removing myself from the center of the group. “To one of the most talented up-and-comi
ng researchers on extraterrestrial life!”
Everybody cheered and drank their champagne, patting me on the back as they dispersed to mingle. I was no longer the center of attention. I was allowed to retreat back into my own inner world.
But my inner world was consumed by one nagging thought. What had happened to the ship after it headed into the meteor field? I knew it hadn’t exploded or crashed – I’d been watching it carefully the whole time. It had simply vanished. There was something strange about the way it seemingly disappeared into thin air. What had happened? What was I missing?
“Lain, nice to see you again.”
A man was suddenly standing in front of me. My chest tightened. It was Brighton. The man who’d broken my heart in grad school.
“It’s been great,” he had told me after I won an argument about the Markagian galaxy with him in front of a group he had been hoping to impress, “But I think I need to be with someone a little more fun.”
What he meant was, he wanted to spend all of his time with a girl who made him feel smarter than she was. And I’d seen the signs. The red flags were there all along. The ego. The pretention. The teasing and condescension. But I looked past it because I wanted so badly for him to be the right guy. Maybe there was no right guy for me. That was okay. I had my career. That was enough. I’d given up on the idea of love a long time ago. Love just wasn’t for eggheads like me. Telescopes, on the other hand…
“Hello, Brighton,” I said coolly. I had nothing to say to him. In fact, I’d spent years rehearsing what I would do if I saw him again, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control not to go off on him. That wouldn’t look great in front of General Meyers.
“So…big promotion, huh?” he said as if he actually wanted to have a conversation with me. I looked hard into his eyes. He wanted something. It was obvious.
“Guess so,” I replied begrudgingly.
“You’re like, captain of the UFO chasers now,” he said, a wide grin creasing his face. “I’m almost jealous.”